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Blacksmith vs. the System 201
🕑 Added 2025-02-01 04:06:01 +0000 UTCAs much as I wanted to start working on the new piercing weapons immediately, I had a pit stop before doing so. I teleported to the third floor, ready to pick another batch of decay trees for the fifth floor before I started to work on it.
Only to pause in shock. “Why the hell does the dungeon floor have environmental mana?” I muttered. It wasn’t much, barely at the level it could be detected freely without using an instrument. More importantly, it was not just pure mana, it was also not pure, carrying a touch of decay.
It wasn’t a strong transformation, below what I could mobilize through the dungeon before I received Wisdom, which added another layer to the discovery. It was an important development, the kind I needed to be warned about the moment it happened.
I immediately went to meet Rebecca, who was still at the industrial greenhouse, ready to deliver a rather pointed lecture.
“You’re here, sir —” Rebecca greeted, only to look abashed at my gesture. “Sorry, professor,” she corrected.
“Better,” I said with a smile, a bit larger than warranted. “Now, tell me. Why didn’t you send an alert about the environmental mana in the dungeon?”
Though, I did feel a bit bad when Rebecca flinched at my question. “Environmental mana, professor?” she asked questioningly.
It was not a lie to avoid me. “You can’t detect it?” I asked, surprised. I collaborated with Maria to confirm that neither Intelligence nor the amount of Essence affected the lower bound of mana detection. But, those experiments had been conducted with pure mana.
“No, professor,” she said.
“How about now?” I said as I rapidly fashioned a box to hold mana, and pumped some mana to the box, with only one opening to output denser mana.
“Now I can sense it,” she cut me when the density almost tripled.
“Let’s try something different,” I said as we repeated the experiment twice, one with fire-natured mana, the other with pure.
It seemed that changing the detection threshold was only valid for decay. Why, I didn’t know. It might be about my class, or the dungeon. Maybe it was even about the plants. It was difficult to know for certain, particularly since I hadn’t properly experimented with it before.
It was easy to miss such things when working alone. “Good work,” I said to Rebecca with a smile. “Any problems with the greenhouse?”
“Nothing outside of our expectations, sir,” she said. “The farming team is working on expanding the cultivated land, but it’s slow going, especially since the insects are getting stronger,” she said.
“Any surprises there?”
“Not at the moment. The number of advanced variants is increasing as you predicted, professor. However, they are closer to the upper bound than I would have liked. A second look might not be a bad idea, especially if mana density is increasing.”
“Good initiative. Continue collecting the data, and plot it based on hourly change. Let’s see if there’s any correlation.”
She nodded. “Apart from that, we have more trees than we initially projected. I’m getting faster as the procedure gets more familiar.”
“Excellent work,” I replied, happy to see her performance. Interestingly, the System was making the job of being a teacher easier. My biggest fault probably had been my demanding attitude toward my students. With the System helping them consolidate their gains unexpectedly, the rewards were proving valuable.
“Thanks, professor. It’s a good feeling to help defend our home.”
“It’s a shame indeed,” I said, glad that my newly developed empathy was there to warn me that she was feeling angry and vulnerable despite her relatively calm delivery. Without it, I would have just nodded and left, not even aware that she was radiating pressure like a sealed pot over the fire, waiting to blow up. “Do you want to talk about it?” I offered instead.
“I don’t want to take your time, professor. Not with … everything.”
“Things aren’t dire enough that I couldn’t dedicate a few minutes listening to my star student,” I said, exaggerating the word star, hoping that adding a humorous tone would help.
It did … after a fashion.
She paused for a moment as she looked at the horizon. “I don’t know, professor. I have just upgraded my class, have a new skill, and finally made a change. I’m helping to defend my home. I should be happy, right? Then, why do I feel angry?” Her voice was getting louder with every word, enough that I subtly reinforced the doors to isolate the sound.
Her sudden bitterness shocked me for two reasons. First, I genuinely didn’t expect that from Rebecca, who seemed to be the calmest and the most cheerful member of the little group I had to work with. But then, thinking about it properly, it was easy to realize the absurdity of it. After all, she was one of the seven who accepted to be a part of the group when I had highlighted the risk of death.
How could she have no problems?
“Emotions are complicated,” I admitted. “But talking about it might help.”
She took a deep breath. “Things had been difficult after the Cataclysm. As a Farmer, everyone just dismissed us as worthless, like even the menial labor we were forced to do was something we had to thank for. I watched as everyone around us turned into superheroes, while we were treated as worthless servants. Yet, I couldn’t get angry at them. How could I, when they fought against monsters every day to protect us, many never returning.”
I said nothing but pat her shoulder, feeling very unequipped to deal with her outburst. I decided to just listen.
“I should feel happy that finally, it’s changing. Finally, I’m strong enough not to be dismissed with a mere gesture. Finally, I don’t have to watch from the side as others risk their lives against the monsters. Yet, I’m feeling angry, and betrayed. All it took was mere days for you to help us. Three years of my life, wasted as I watched people I could have helped die one after another.”
As she spoke, I could feel her anger and despair … but I could also see a touch of self-hatred on her face. One that came from her inner voice, telling her that, if only she was better, she could have saved so many lives.
One that I recognized from the mirror.
“You’re not the only one that feels that way,” I said. For once, I decided to be honest, hoping that it would help. “I also wasted those same three years, hopelessly applying for research jobs, trying to help, not even realizing what I was wasting. And, unlike you, I had the chance to act differently, to join an expedition and fight. I just … didn’t.”
“But, professor,” she gasped in shock as she gestured vaguely. “How can you think that, when you did all of this. We owe our lives to you. No, more than our lives,” she added. “We owe you for the opportunity we have.”
“Maybe, but it doesn’t change how I feel,” I said, then chuckled. It was true. Not only the guilt from the inaction, or the mistakes, but also the self-reflection on my own changes. When I first arrived, the mere memory of killing a man was enough to send me into a tailspin, remembering that fateful blow.
And, now, I was killing at a rate that would impress a serial killer, without even blinking. It scared me.
The only difference was that I had no opportunities to linger on those feelings, not when I called a day with only one crisis a slow day.
She paused as well. “There’s no solution for how I feel, is there?”
“No,” I said, and she looked sad. “A solution means that what you’re feeling is an affliction. It’s not. It’s just the natural reaction to the unfair hand fate has dealt you … dealt all of us, making us face an unimaginable disaster that changed everything, then sent us a solution that seems to change our very being. Feeling angry is natural. All that matters is what you do with it.”
Rebecca sighed as she looked away. “It sounds so easy when you say it like that.”
“No, it might be simple, but it is not easy,” I corrected.
“Certainly not,” she assented. For several minutes, neither of us said anything, letting the moment linger, the air still heavy.
I gave her the time she needed. And, if I was being honest, I needed it just as much. Maybe more. With the war once again on the horizon, a moment where I did nothing, and thought nothing, was a luxury. One that I didn’t realize I had desperately needed.
“So, professor,” she said several minutes later, breaking the silence. “I have a few notes about the tools we use to modify the trees. If you can change the way they work, I believe we can increase our efficiency significantly.”
Just like that, it was time to work once more. “Tell me about it.”
Comments
Undead Writer
Thanks for the chapter!
